


Rebel Diamonds

by blissedoutvixen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Codependency, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, MWPP Era, sb/oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissedoutvixen/pseuds/blissedoutvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would have ever thought that Sirius Black would fall for another pureblood? This is the story of Valentina Vetra.</p>
<p>originally posted on FF.net, thought I might have more motivation to finish it here</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebel Diamonds

**None of Us Were Angels**

* * *

 

_**"There, there baby it’s just text book stuff,** _  
_**It’s in the abc of growing up,** _  
_**Now, now darling, oh don’t lose your head,** _  
_**‘Cause none of us are angels and you know I love you, yeah”** _ **(Speeding Cars—Imogene Heap)**

* * *

 

_Valentina,_

_Welcome home. Your father and I regret that we are not able to be there to receive you, but, as you are surely aware, this year your homecoming date falls on the night of the Blacks' annual Yuletide Ball, an engagement at which our presence is most essential. Your father and I expect to see you there promptly after you've been delivered home. However, do not hasten yourself so much, Valentina, that you fail to look presentable. The house elves have set out appropriate apparel options in your room. The pearl earrings will work nicely with either the plum or emerald dress robes. A slight amount of perfume could perhaps be tasteful, but kindly do not slather on half a bottle. It will not do to have you smelling like a French whore. In addition, please be exceedingly careful when applying your makeup, and do so sparingly. It will not do to have you looking like an American whore either. I deplore that I feel the need to explain all of this to you, Valentina, as it is quite ridiculous that you cannot be counted upon to simply know what is expected of you by now, but I fear that if I do not you would be liable to do something completely heinous, such as show up to the Blacks in your school uniform. Additionally, please lay your uniform neatly on your bed. The house elves will launder and press it for you. We've left a portkey on the dining room table for you. It leaves at 9 o'clock, and you'd better not miss it._

_Ludovico and Isabelle Vetra_

I rolled my eyes and carelessly dropped the note, watching it flutter down to settle on the dark, mahogany table that was (if the routine had kept) polished meticulously three times a day by the battalion of family house elves. Could my parents possibly be any more pretentious? I shook my head disgustedly, and began stomping my way up the twisting, black marble staircase that led to the upper floors, dragging my carry-on bag behind me. The second landing, which led to my room, was adorned with an enormous portrait of Caterina de Medici, an ancestor of mine on my father’s side. She was infamous for her use of dark magic; committing acts so brazenly evil that even the muggles noticed and accused her of being a witch. And indeed she was. My father, of course, was pleased as punch to have an evil murderess for a relative, and never bypassed an opportunity to brag that he was related to the infamous Medici's.

My parents had placed Caterina so near to my room in order to remind me of my "noble stock", as they put it. Caterina certainly did seem to consider herself noble. She never deigned to speak to anyone and spent most of her time staring disdainfully at anyone who passed beneath her portrait. Occasionally, she would sniff daintily. I avoided looking at her whenever possible. On my way to my room, I hurried past her portrait, enclosed in an exquisite, goblin made, silver frame, and made my way down the poorly lit, green carpeted hallway.

When I reached the door to my room, adorned with a silver plaque that read 'Valentina Vetra' in curling, ebony script, I nudged it open and heaved my luggage onto the bed. The monogrammed carry-on landed with a plop in the middle of the comforter, right on top of the dress robes that had been laid out for me there. I didn't much care that they were now hideously wrinkled. If my mother thought I was going to wear anything she suggested, she was even more delusional than I thought.

The woman certainly did know what colors complemented my skin tone though, I mused as I surveyed the plum and emerald dress robes she had chosen for me. My olive skin looked best in rich, dark colors, and I had to admit that the purple dress robes were gorgeous. Too bad I would never wear them, if only in order to vex my mother out of spite. She would sneer that I was contrary and childish, and maybe I was, but it would be worth it to see the look of dismay on her perfectly made up face when I showed up in an outfit she hadn't authorized. Perhaps it was petty, but I lived to make her lose her control, even for an instant, and especially in public. It was tremendously satisfying for me whenever I could break through that veneer of cool, refined, grace and dignity that she put on, and expose what was beneath.

I began to undress, carelessly tossing the discarded components of my uniform all about the room; my tie flung on the lampshade, the blue pleated skirt kicked under the bed, my stockings balled in a heap on the floor. Again; childish, but oh so satisfying.

Now naked, I strode into the adjoining bathroom and started the shower, gratefully stepping under the torrent of hot water. It beat down comfortingly upon my back, soothing the stiff neck and shoulders I had acquired from the long train journey and subsequent boat trip from France. Even though we lived in Britain, my mother, who was half French, had insisted on sending me to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts. In addition to your standard set of magical subjects, Beauxbatons also taught what my mother liked to refer to as 'The Essential Arts for Ladies'; etiquette, dance, cooking, sewing, and music. It was part Magic Academy and part finishing school. I had thrown a tantrum of epic proportions to try and get out of it, begging my mother to let me go to Hogwarts along Sirius Black, our neighbor and my best friend. But she was as unmoved as stone in the face of my tears, and informed me that I was going to Beauxbatons and that was the end of it.

Outraged and desperate, I made the mistake of appealing to my father. He had coolly informed me that he found the idea of my going to an all girls’ school a valuable piece of insurance. When the time came for my marriage, my purity would be irrefutable, my father explained succinctly, confident in the cool logic of his assertion. Apparently participation lesbian escapades never occurred to him as a possibility. Father’s always been hopelessly blinkered and old fashioned in his views regarding sexuality.

It was on that night that I realized I was nothing more to him than a piece of chattel to be bartered and eventually sold off to the highest bidder. My father had always been distant and cool toward me, but he was that way with everyone, and I had assumed he felt at least some modicum of affection for me. I was wrong. I managed to hold in my tears until I was gone from his presence, before I stumbled sobbingly into the floo and went to Sirius for comfort.

Dragging myself from depressing memories, I continued massaging my pomegranate scented shampoo into my long, dark brown hair. My hair is one of my favorite features, and I take good care of it. After gently scrubbing my body with a loofah and conditioning my hair, I braced myself and twisted off the hot tap, sending and icy shockwave of water over myself. I forced myself to stand in the icy stream and let the freezing cold water saturate my hair completely and run over my entire body. This was supposed to be good for your pores and your hair. Or maybe I'm just a masochist. After thirty seconds or so I shut off the tap completely and stepped out of the shower.

Twisting my hair up in a plush towel and patting myself dry with another one, I turned toward the mirror. Being the magical kind, the mirror hadn't fogged up despite my hot shower. I began to appraise myself critically in it. I frowned at my breasts, which were as small as they had ever been, modest B-cups, and then ran my hands over the slight curve of my hips. No matter how many times I looked in the mirror, I would still have the same waif like body type as my mother. I was almost unattractively thin, and had virtually no curves to speak of. I had yet to reach a height of 5'2, and the healer mother had dragged me to see had projected that I would grow no taller. Mother had glared at me upon this news, as if my height wasn't entirely her fault in the first place. She’s incredibly diminutive herself, having topped off at only 5'3. We looked quite similar to one another, excepting our starkly different eye colors, hers being an icy blue and mine dark brown.

One thing I felt my mother did have the right to complain about regarding my appearance however, was my least favorite feature about myself; my nose. The rest of my facial features were as delicately rendered as hers, but I had gotten my nose from my father, and it seemed to overwhelm the rest of my face. Mother despaired over it, and it was one of the only things we agreed upon, though I would never admit this to her out loud. Leaning forward and wrinkling my nose in the mirror once, I forced myself to stop being so melodramatic. I looked perfectly fine, and tonight I was going to look fabulous. Wrapping the towel around myself, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed over to rummage in the carry-on for my wand. Once I had hold of it, I dried my hair instantaneously by magic. One of the only good things about the superiority complex of the old school purebloods is that they feel their children should be above the restriction for underage wizardry, and so they find ways to get around it. Not to mention, with the kind of dark magic most of the old families practiced, there was no way they were going to allow the ministry to monitor their homes. So all in all, it was rather convenient for everyone.

Although, I mused as I carefully applied smoky eye-shadow to my left lid, it might be worth not being able to do magic during hols if it meant the ministry finally caught on to the kinds of things my father was involved in and arrested him. My mother probably didn't actually use magic dark enough to get her tossed in Azkaban, but the scandal would surely devastate her. I smirked into the mirror at the thought. I truly was a horrible daughter. It was a pipe dream anyway though. If my father ever did get into trouble with the law, which was highly unlikely, he would simply bribe someone to get out of it. Such things were done frequently. The Malfoy’s seem to excel particularly at such sneaky, political maneuvers.

Despite its implausibility, my little fantasy had cheered me up. Besides, I was going to see Sirius tonight, how could I possibly be in a bad mood? Sirius Black and I had been best friends ever since I could remember. Being almost exactly a month apart in birth, we had always been forced together at our parents' nightmarish parties and balls. He found me a willing partner in crime for causing havoc. Whether it was by illegal or accidental magic, or even good old muggle style pranking, we had usually managed to spice up the boorish parade of parties we were forced to attend throughout our childhood. Maybe it was growing up being around each other constantly, but we've always understood each other uncannily well. Even when we were very young, I could always tell when Sirius was upset, even if he wasn't letting on. I would be able to tell right away what type of funk he was in and know just what to do to cheer him up. We told everything to each other, always whispering secrets and sharing inside jokes. We were quite obnoxious in our closeness actually.

It was with Sirius, when we were a bit older, that I felt able to confide how I felt about my family. Their beliefs and behaviors frightened and confused me. Sirius confessed that he felt the same uneasy disturbance about his family as I did about mine. I think we gave each other the courage not to conform. At least that's how it was for me. When I was still trying to figure shit out, Sirius was my rock of normalcy. He reassured me that I wasn't insane, or an ignorant brat for feeling differently from my family. They were the ones who were insane.

We've always been fiercely protective of each other. When Alecta Carrow stole her mother's wand and tried to cast a spell on Sirius that would freeze his face and prevent him from smiling (because, as she was constantly crowing, Sirius had to _serious_ , didn't he) I snatched it away from her and jabbed her in the eye with it before she could do anything. This prompted her to burst into tears and launch herself at me, scratching and biting. She loathes me as a result and I still have a scar from that incident, but it was completely worth it. I was the luckiest girl in pureblood society to actually have someone that was a true friend to me, and Sirius proved over and over that he was that. When Alexander Nott made fun of the size of my nose so incessantly that I began to cry, Sirius marched over and punched him in the face, breaking Alexander's nose. It's still crooked, and I have to suppress a vindictive smile every time I see him. Immersed in a sea of hostility, we kept prevented each other from drowning.

When I didn't get to go to Hogwarts I was scared that Sirius would forget about me and we wouldn't be able to be best friends anymore. Of course, we each made our own friends at our respective schools, and that made the separation easier. Except for the fact that I was secretly terrified that Sirius would start to like James, Remus, and Peter better than me, and would realize that he didn't need a girl for a best friend. But whenever we saw each other we fell back into the same easy friendship that we'd always had. After all, I was still the only one he allowed to call him Siri, I reassured myself smugly.

I smiled to myself in the mirror as I put the finishing touches on my makeup job, lightly dusting some berry colored rouge over my cheeks. To my great amusement, I had noticed in the last year that Sirius had started signing all his letters as 'the S.O.B.'. Apparently his mother had made the mistake of referring to him as a 'son of a bitch' in one of their heated arguments, failing to see the irony of this comment. Sirius thought it was bloody hilarious, especially given his initials, and he'd been signing his letters that way ever since. He found it to be entirely too appropriate, and, speaking as someone who's met his mother, he's not wrong.

I hopped off the stool in front of my vanity, having finished my hair and makeup. Ambling over to my carry-on I extracted what I planned to wear that night. The dress robes that I had picked up for the occasion were from a little shop in France, and made of a deep, red silk. I thought it a rather festive and appropriate color for a Christmas party, especially paired with my emerald jewels. Doubtlessly my mother would disagree, but as the French say, _c'est la vie_ ; such is life. Floor length and strapless, the robes were slinky and had a slit going up the right side that would enable me to walk in them without falling over. That is, if my shoes didn't trip me up on their own. To go with my dress, I had chosen a pair of dangerously high, black stilettos that, while delicious to look at, weren't exactly conducive to walking. I'd probably take them off within minutes of arriving at the party, but Merlin help me they were simply too gorgeous to resist. I've always been somewhat self-indulgent. One of my many flaws I suppose.

After shimmying into a pair of black, lace knickers, I reached forward and carefully extracted the red dress robes from my bag, delicately slipping them on and enjoying the cool kiss of the silk against my skin. Then, after adjusting the low, artfully knotted back, I padded over to my stilettos and stepped into them. Once I had ceased wobbling was steady on my feet, I made my way over to the full length mirror to have a look at myself. At the risk of sounding like a conceited sod, I looked good. The dress robes were very pretty, and with the height my shoes gave me I actually looked sort of…elegant in them. Almost like an actual adult. After all, I was a few months past my sixteenth birthday now. Less than a year till I was legal. I couldn't wait. Slipping my wand into my clutch (what sane witch went anywhere without hers in these times?) I gave myself one last glance in the mirror before heading downstairs to catch a portkey.

* * *

 

 Lurching forward, I skidded hazardously on the thin layer of fallen snow. I only just managed to avoid falling flat on my face by blindly reaching out and grabbing onto the first thing my hand came in contact with. Still breathing hard, but having managed to steady myself, I glanced over and realized that I had broken my fall by desperately latching onto the hugely, erect stone, penis of a profoundly ugly gargoyle statue.

Fabulous.

The thing was so horrifyingly realistic that I could even feel great, bulging veins popping out of it. I was just trying to figure out a way to let go of it and not lose my balance when I became of aware of loud, barking laugh. I would know it anywhere. And suddenly I had been swooped up and set down on a stone garden bench by none other than Sirius Black, who was still laughing his arse off.

Sirius' laughter was contagious, and soon we were both in hysterics, falling all over one another and hardly able to breathe. I was laughing so hard that my stomach hurt, but I just couldn't seem to stop. "God, Vee, I missed you," Sirius said after a few minutes, when we'd both managed to calm down somewhat.

"Mmm," I hummed, leaning over and resting my head on his shoulder, my up-do already thoroughly disheveled, "I missed you too, Siri."

Turning my head a bit, I surveyed the grotesque statue which had been the cause of our bout of laughter. "Merlin, why is that thing even there?" I asked Sirius incredulously.

"Well, Valentina, when a man loves a woman, or just seriously wants to shag her brains out-" "I meant the statue, you prat!" I shouted laughingly, giving him a shove.

He sobered abruptly. "It's my mother," he told me solemnly, "She's recently developed a fetish for stone gargoyles. Finds them much more responsive than my father."

"You are so disgusting," I told him, but I was laughing again. I shuddered theatrically, "The thought of Walburga having sex with anyone is just…" I broke off and shuddered again, this time for real.

"Incredibly disturbing?" Sirius finished knowingly, with a raised eyebrow.

I nodded. "And yet," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulder, "In the grand sacrifices of life, that circus of horrors had to take place in order to bring me into the world. And we all know what a deeply profound tragedy it would be if I didn't exist." I rolled my eyes at his dramatics.

He paused reflexively, "They really should have stopped after me though. Some things just aren't worth subjecting the world to that level of horror for."

"Where is Regulus?" I asked, looking around the deserted courtyard as if he might pop out from behind a bush.

Sirius shrugged. "Who knows. Probably off licking Lucius Malfoy's shoes," he speculated darkly.

"So,” I said quickly, in a bid to distract him from the unpleasant subject of his brother. “What are you doing out here? Come to that, what am I doing out here?” I inquired airily. “Why on earth would the portkey send me to an abandoned courtyard? Shouldn't I have ended up in the foray or something?"

"Oh," said Sirius, fumbling around in the inside of his coat for something, "I fixed it. Wanted to see you first."

"Aw, that's sweet Siri," I said, leaning over and giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek, "but you're lucky you didn't ruin my shoes. I would've had to aveda you."

Sirius huffed. "You love me," he said, finding what he’d been looking for in his coat and extracting a pack of cigarettes from its depths. I raised my eyebrows. This was new.

"Since when do you smoke?" I asked him.

"'Bout a year now," he said, cupping his hand against the wind and lighting up.

"Look at you, all badass," I observed sardonically, tilting my head. He flipped me off wordlessly and took a drag. "So do your parents know?" I asked, referring to his newly acquired habit.

"Yeah,” he bitterly exhaled a puff of smoke. “Reg saw me smoking one in Hogsmeade last year. Wrote home to dear ol' mum and dad about it, little shit. He should really get his own fucking life instead tailing me everywhere so he can report to them on me. He gets off on seeing them punish me. Twisted little fuck," Sirius finished viciously.

I sighed forlornly, and stared out at the dark night, watching the smoke from Sirius' cigarette drift up to mingle with the stars, and then slowly dissipate into the blackness. It was depressing how life could end up as complete and utter shit sometimes. He was only a third year, but from everything I saw, and everything Sirius told me, it already seemed too late to save Regulus. Reg had always been desperate to please his parents, couldn't take being raged at and punished by them. To be fair, no one should have to endure that. When Sirius went away to Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor, Walburga and Orion brainwashed Regulus into believing his brother was a scum loving blood traitor unfit to share the family name. Now Regulus hero worshipped Bella the way he had used to Sirius. That was Reg; a sweet kid, but easily led. And maybe not so sweet anymore…Not under Bella's influence anyway.

"Alright!" I said, standing up abruptly and ending the moody silence we had sunk into. "This is bullshit." Sirius looked up at me, my outburst having torn him from his dark thoughts.

"What's bullshit?" he mumbled from around his fag.

"This! I'm not going to spend Christmas sitting here on this bench staring at a gargoyle's penis and brooding with you! It’s fucking depressing!”

Sirius let out a startled laugh, choking a bit on his fag. "Alright, yeah," he said, standing up and tossing his still burning cigarette into the snow, "You go in there and make the rounds. I'll knick as much liquor as I possibly can and meet you in my room in 45 minutes."

I beamed at him, “Brill!”

As adept as I was at dealing with Sirius when he was in one of his moods, that was decidedly less fun than getting rip roaring smashed with him. "But how come you have the fun part?" I pouted as made our way from the bench, my ass now somewhat numb with cold.

Sirius smirked wickedly, "Because you, my dear Valentina, have yet to put in an appearance with the gilded masses, while I have already served my time in purgatory."

I made a face at him, but accepted my fate nevertheless. If I didn't hang around for at least half an hour pretending to make nice with everyone and pay my respects to all the appropriate people, mother would doubtlessly murder me with her bare, French manicured hands. I was already late, so she was surely severely irritated with me as it was. Joy of joys. Sirius was right, I had better do my duty if I didn't want him finding my pale, bloated corpse floating in the Thames a few months down the road. And that was _not_ a clean river.

Over the course of my morbid musings we had arrived at the beautiful set of plate glass doors that led inside. I could hear the strains of generic classical music and false, tinkling laughter floating out from the ballroom that awaited me. Steeling myself for my unpleasant task, I squared my shoulders and prepared to go in. Sirius leaned forward and opened the doors, ushering me inside ahead of him. "You'll do fine, Luv," he whispered, giving my shoulder a comforting squeeze before vanishing seamlessly up a staircase. And he was right, I would do fine. While Sirius was generally more sociable than me, and unquestionably more charming, he had a harder time masking his disgust and hatred of this crowd than I did. I could get through this. I would get through this. It just wasn't going to be fun.

* * *

An exhaustive hour later, I found myself staring plaintively at the ceiling as I tried in vain to tune out the bigoted rant I was being forced to endure. A sharp pinch to my lower back, courtesy of my mother, had me forcing my eyes back to Madam Lestrange. The mad old, hag was over 150 years old and certainly wasn't fooling anyone with that crisp, black hair that she insisted on maintaining. She was currently going on and on about the state of despair in the modern wizarding school system.

"Even the most prestigious schools are letting in trash now! Crawling with mudblood filth, all of them," she spat, and I found myself avidly focusing on the mole on her upper lip as my mother nodded along in fervent agreement. Julia, my best friend at Beauxbatons, and really the only one I had there, happened to be a muggleborn and it made me sick that I had to listen to this kind of talk. Actually, what made me sick was that I was listening to it and not saying anything. That I wasn't spitting viciously back in Madam Lestrange's ancient, hateful face that she was a black hearted, bigoted, old, hag not fit to lick Julia's muggle made shoes. Sirius might have said it, but that's why he had experienced the cruciatus curse and I hadn't. I couldn't decide if he was loads braver than me or just loads stupider. Probably both, actually.

"They're not even the same species, really," Madame Lestrange was saying now. "That our pureblood children are being forced into contact with them, forced to treat them as if they are equals, it's ludicrous. Ludicrous, I say! Durmstrang is the only haven. It's the only school not infested mudbloods and other revolting subspecies. You have to have quite the pedigree to get accepted there, of course. Only the oldest most respected names can get in. My great-grandsons go there, naturally, did you know- "

"I'm feeling a tad woozy," I announced suddenly, unable to take much more of this before I lost control and I ended up rolling my eyes so hard they popped out of my face. "I think I'll just go to the loo…" Madame Lestrange, being too caught up in her tirade and too full of herself to take any notice of me, and my mother being completely absorbed with her, neither noticed when I slipped away.

Heading to the far end of the ballroom I found myself at the foot of a rather daunting staircase. Slipping off my heels, I padded stealthily up the twisting, black marble monstrosity that led to the upper floors.

Standing outside the door to Sirius' room, I knocked three times to let him know it was me and edged open the door.

"'Bout fucking time!" Sirius announced once he saw me.

He made quite the picture, sprawled out lazily on his bed like that. His jet black hair was mussed attractively as he lounged against his scarlet pillows. Nestled on his chest was an open bottle of Firewiskey, the tip of the bottle neck poised between his chapped lips. He had yanked on his tie aggressively to loosen it, and his white oxford was now rumpled, the sleeves rolled up to expose lightly tanned forearms, slightly muscled. He had kicked off his shoes, and they lay haphazardly on his floor. Surrounded by Gryffindor banners and unmoving posters of bikini clad, muggle girls straddling motorbikes, he was the embodiment of sinful invitation.

"I can't believe you opened a bottle without me," I said, setting my heels down carefully on the floor and plopping down beside him on the bed.

Sirius shrugged unrepentantly, removing the bottle of firewiskey from between his lips and proffering it to me. "Help yourself, love."

I sat up and took a sip of the fiery liquid, grimacing as it burned down my throat.

* * *

Two hours later and the alcohol had most definitely hit us. "Sirius Black!" I gasped in mock indignation, "Are you insinuating that I am anything other than an impeccably well brought up young lady of pureblood society!"

Giggling, I fell forward onto Sirius' chest, nuzzling my face happily into his warmth. He was still laughing at my drunken antics, and I could feel the sound reverberating through his chest in a comforting rumble. I smiled softly. I'd always loved to hear Sirius laugh genuinely; his real laugh, not his bitter sardonic one or the harsh fake one he sometimes choked out for people who didn't know him well enough to see through it. Gradually Sirius' laughter petered off, and I sighed, shifting against him, finding a more comfortable position. Sirius began stroking my hair, and for a while we lay like that in silence, caught up in our own thoughts. That was the trouble with alcohol; at first everything was hilarious and you loved everybody and the world was made of shiny happiness, but eventually that faded you got all introspective.

"Vee?" he said, and I could feel his breath ghosting across the top of my head.

"Hmm," I mumbled into his chest. "Do you ever wish we were little again?" I turned my head sideways on his chest and peered curiously up at him. "How do you mean?" I asked, fiddling absently with one of his buttons.

Underneath me, I felt him shrug. His shadowy gray eyes were swirling with a torrent of emotions that I couldn't decipher. Maybe it was the alcohol, but at that moment I couldn't read him. He looked down, continuing to comb his fingers through my hair, which had long ago come undone from its up-do, and now lay spread around my shoulders.

"I dunno. Just that everything was simpler back then, I guess. When we were just kids."

"Yes, I guess it was," I reflected quietly, thinking of how we used to play so care freely with each other, the prospect of getting caught not one that evoked fear, but a sense of edgy excitement that only heightened the fun of our games. How in our little world, the biggest problem was having to go to yet another boring ball. Voldemort didn't exist back then, at least not to us, though he had already begun gathering a band of maniacally loyal followers and killing innocents. We were blissfully ignorant of his growing power back then. We were too little to see what was going on, too wrapped up in ourselves to perceive the growing, dangerous mentality that was steadily beginning to grip the pureblood world. Our world.

Sirius' hands had left my hair, and were now tracing mysterious symbols on my rib cage. I shivered at his touch and snuggled closer to him, feeling suddenly chilly, either from the lack of coverage my dress provided or the recollection of those memories, I don't know. Sirius wrapped his arms tightly around me, clutching me to him. "'Member how you could always tell when I was feeling fucked up, and you'd just climb into my lap and make everything better?" he asked, his words slurring together slightly.

Yes, I remembered. I opened my mouth to say so, when the words faded from my mind entirely. Sirius' hand had drifted down my body, and he was now fiddling with the material of my dress where it had ridden up on my thigh. His fingers snuck below the hem and he began edging the dress farther up, exposing yet more of my skin. I gasped and stiffened against him. His fingers stilled. The air felt heavy with intensity. "Sirius, what are you doing?" I rasped my eyes widening in muted shock.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, and his voice sounded strange to me. There was a roughness to it, and he was no longer slurring his words.

"I…I don't know," I stuttered. My brain felt all floaty and Sirius' resumed ministrations on my thigh were causing my breathing to speed up. His hand was caressing me now, and I could feel it burning through the thin dress material as he massaged my thigh and the curve of my arse. I didn't know why he was doing this, but Sirius' actions were sparking a surprisingly delicious tingling feeling in the lower part of my stomach. He slid his hand beneath the material of my dress, resting it on the bare skin of my thigh. My breath was coming in gasps now, and I could feel Sirius puffing harshly against my neck. He nudged me onto my back, his hand sliding with my body till he was cupping my arse, his hand separated from my skin only by my knickers. The thin lace of them allowed me to feel the warmth of his hand against me.

I looked up at Sirius in wonder as he knelt over me. I had always known Sirius was attractive. Once you reached a certain age, it was impossible not to notice. It wasn't that I fancied him or anything, it was just that I appreciated he was good looking. Who wouldn't? He was tall without being gangly, and his gorgeous black hair always seemed to look perfect, even when it was messy. He had a strong jaw line, now lightly dusted with black stubble, that kept his face from being too pretty. But it was his eyes that had always captivated me. Their intensity and color, which always seemed to be fluctuating between light and calm, to stormy gray, to almost black and back again, drew me in.

Gradually, Sirius lowered himself toward me. His face began to fill up my vision and I stared at his lips as they drew closer to mine. I didn't believe he would actually kiss me. I saw him moving closer, but somehow I still didn't think it would happen. But it did. His lips settled against mine and he held them there for a few seconds. The slight pressure of his lips on mine undid me, and I melted against him. We kissed frantically, his tongue sweeping wetly over my bottom lip, demanding permission to enter. I gladly acquiesced, and he began leisurely exploring my mouth. Our tongues stroked each other, and his body settled more fully against mine. I could feel a bulge against my center, and I gasped when I realized what it was.

This was escalating far quicker than I could keep up with, but when Sirius began kissing my jaw, all I could think of was how good that felt. He was massaging my arse with one of his hands, urging my body closer to his growing bulge. I groaned at the sensation of Sirius' erection against me, and my knickers began to flood with wetness. Sirius reclaimed my mouth, and I moaned heavily into the kiss, thrusting my tongue against his. I began sucking on his tongue, and he bucked erratically against me. But my dress was constraining us, keeping us from getting the friction that we both so desperately wanted. With a growl of frustration, Sirius broke away from me, leaving me gasping for breath and aching for him. Blindly, he reached down and savagely ripped my dress. I gasped in shock and felt a thrill go through me at his animalistic behavior.

More wetness pooled between my thighs. We couldn't get close enough to each other, and I whimpered in need, desperate for more contact. Sirius hurriedly shoved the now ripped dress up my thighs, the cool, silky material sliding easily upwards. Hungrily kissing my neck, he thrust the hand not rhythmically massaging my arse in between my legs. I gasped involuntarily at the strange, intoxicating feeling of Sirius' big, warm hand pressed against my most intimate place. I could feel him clearly through my thin lace knickers, and the tingly, swoopy feeling in my stomach was quickly spreading lower. I squirmed against him eagerly, oblivious to the fact that I was getting my wetness all over his hand. Sirius began moving his fingers on me through the lace, eliciting tantalizing sensations. He was so very close to touching my bare skin where no one but me had ever touched before. I felt delirious with nervous anticipation, tuned in so completely to the things he was making me feel in my lower half that I could scarcely concentrate on anything but the way Sirius was making my body feel. I was just beginning to feel vaguely embarrassed that Sirius was doing all the work when one of his fingers rubbed my clit through the lace material of my knickers. I gave a little cry and bucked against him, all coherent thought flying from my brain.

"God, Vee, you're so wet for me," he groaned, as he continued to furiously work my clit, rubbing and pressing it ceaselessly.

 "Sirius," I moaned, writhing against him. "Oh god, Sirius, fuck!" A wondrous, heady feeling like I'd never felt before was beginning to build inside me. I couldn't get enough of Sirius. I struggled mindlessly to get as close to him as possible, panting wantonly and periodically moaning his name as I jerked against his hand. The feeling was getting more and more intense, threatening to engulf me. The barrage of fantastic new sensations was becoming too much for me. My breathing and thrusts against Sirius' hand were getting increasingly erratic. I was on the brink of something. And that's when Sirius finally slipped his fingers beneath my knickers. The feeling of his hand against my bare, wet, pussy was one of the most erotic experience of my life up until that point, and when he swept the rough pad of his thumb over my clit I came undone against him.

When I came back down to earth, feeling both pleasantly fulfilled and exhausted, I slowly became aware of the fact that Sirius' hand was still inside my knickers, cupping me and rubbing lightly. That, and there was a rather large bulge pressing urgently against my thigh. My stomach began to squirm again with renewed sensation at these realizations, and I looked up at Sirius. Flushed as I already was, I blushed when I saw the look in his eyes, and tingles began to spread renewed over my body. His pupils were huge with lust, and he was staring at me reverentially, as if I were some kind of goddess. I could feel myself turning red, somewhat embarrassed by, but pleased nonetheless, with the way he was looking at me. He slowly pulled his hand from my knickers, trailing my own wetness over my stomach and making me shiver.

"Wow," he said, holding up his hand and staring at it in wonder. "I didn't even have to stick my fingers up you to get you to cum."

This was such a grossly inappropriate, and yet entirely Sirius, thing to say that I couldn't help but bursting into a fit of giggles.

"What?" asked Sirius confusedly. Still giggling, I sat up and lightly pushed him onto his back.

"Nothing," I told him, straddling him and settling myself on his stomach. Well, that shut him up. I leaned forward and briefly sucked on his lower lip before darting my tongue in his mouth. He happily let me in and promptly started to try and dominate me with his tongue.

As I lost myself in the kiss, Sirius eased himself up so that he was sitting against his headboard. I slid down his body into his lap. I gasped into Sirius' mouth as the feeling of his erection pressing urgently against my thinly veiled center sent a pleasant shock through me. I ground experimentally against it and Sirius groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet me. Wrenching my mouth from Sirius', I leaned my forehead against his, breathing heavily. My head was spinning dizzily. When I had gotten a bit of a handle on myself I sat up and removed my hands from where they were tangled in Sirius' hair. Placing them on either side of me and Sirius, I used my hands to lift myself up (Sirius groaned at the brief loss of contact) and began to drag my lace clad pussy lightly up and down the bulging outline of Sirius' cock. I had no idea what I was doing, of course, but judging by Sirius reaction it seemed to be working.

"Fuck, Vee," Sirius breathed clenching his hands in his sheets as I teased him. His breath was coming in short pants and he began thrusting into me as I rubbed myself against him. Every time he did this it sent a hot little jolt through me, prompting me to rub harder and more solidly on his straining cock. Eventually it seemed Sirius could take no more of my pace because he seized my arse with both hands and began roughly grinding my hips against his. My back arched, anticipation of that bliss he had brought me to once before again beginning to build inside me. We had been grinding, groaning and bucking against each other for a while when Sirius took hold of my shoulders and flipped us over so that I was on my back and he was straddling me. He sat back and reached for the button on his trousers. I watched, hotly fascinated, as he slid his button from its hole and yanked them down. He lifted himself from me in order to lose them completely. I found myself captivated by the tent in his boxers. Staring at me intently, Sirius slowly raised his hands to the waistband of his pants and tugged down, unveiling himself to me. My eyes widened considerably and my mouth fell open to form a round, silent 'O'. Holy ghost of Merlin. All I could do was stare at Sirius' cock in a combination of awe and mounting panic. How in the hell was that thing going to fit inside me? It was…big. I mean, not that I had seen a lot of penis' before or anything, not in person anyway. But this was just sort of…overwhelming. I mean, just, wow.

Sirius must have noticed the rather stunned look on my face because he got this shit eating grin right before he reached down and tore my lacy, black knickers from my hips. I raised my arse slightly from the bed in order to help them along, and Sirius pulled till he had me completely free of them. He tossed them over his shoulder before locking his eyes hungrily on my core. I was feeling a bit exposed, completely naked for the first time, but Sirius was staring at me with such undeniable lust in his eyes that it was impossible to be too self-conscious. Without tearing his eyes from my center, Sirius backed up until he was kneeling between my thighs. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. This was really happening. Holy fucking shit.

Wait- I reached up and grabbed Sirius' arm urgently, "Sirius. We have to do the contraceptive charm."

He jerked and wrenched wild eyes up to mine, "Huh?" he said unintelligently.

"The contraceptive charm. We have to do it."

"Oh. Right. Yeah…yeah," he said, reaching over to his bedside table and fumbling for his wand. Once he had hold on it, he pointed his wand at my stomach and mumbled, " _Preoccupo Suboles_." My stomach and lower regions were suffused with a cool tingling and then flashed pleasantly warm.

"Did it work?" Sirius asked. "Yeah, I think so," I whispered. Sirius nodded and tossed his wand aside. Then he grabbed his impressively large cock and positioned the tip at my entrance. I instinctively spread my thighs as far as I could in anticipation of accommodating him. Breathing rapidly, Sirius darted his eyes up to mine as if to ask for permission and I nodded. There was nervousness tinged with my excitement now, but it was clear we were going to doing this. I bit my lip, and Sirius took a deep breath before he plunged into me. There was a sharp pain, like a hard pinch deep inside me, and I saw stars. And not in the good way. In the, 'wow, this really fucking hurts' way. It was only when Sirius said, "Vee?" cautiously that I realized my eyes were squeezed shut and I had bitten my lip hard enough to bleed.

"Can you just, hold on for a second?" I asked Sirius tightly, not opening my eyes.

"Yeah," he breathed out, sounding just as wound up as me, though maybe for a different reason. It wasn't supposed to hurt for blokes, was it? I concentrated on breathing in and out, trying to relax and get used to this strange feeling of fullness. Just as I began to adjust, Sirius squirmed against me.

"Sorry," he gasped, "I just…it's…really hard not to move." The squirming felt weird, but not too horrible. The pain was starting to fade a bit.

"'S'okay," I gasped out, "Go ahead just…not too fast." Sirius pulled out of me a bit and then began to pump slowly in and out of me. I opened my eyes and peered up at him. He had an odd, almost pained look on his face as though he was trying very hard to control himself. On his next shallow thrust I hesitantly arched up to meet him. It felt pretty raw, but I tried not to let the pain show through on my face. As I continued to tentatively meet him thrust for thrust I felt tears prick the back of my eyes at the pain. I absolutely could not start crying. That would be horrible. But I was beginning to pray that he either finished very soon or it got better.

Sirius was raining down soft, sloppy kisses on my body as he pumped in and out of me and I tried to lose myself in their sweetness. While five minutes earlier the sound of him grunting things like, "God, Vee, you're so…..fuck….Vee…oh, fuck, Vee, my god." in apparent ecstasy would have seriously turned me on, now I just felt sort of vulnerable. I buried my head in his neck and nuzzled into him, breathing in the smell of his sweaty skin. Twisting my arms around his back, I clutched him as tightly as I could, which was worth the discomfort down below for how much better it made me feel. The pain had faded to uncomfortable twinges now, and I felt sure of myself enough to lean back from Sirius, merely holding onto his warm arm. I began brushing kisses over every inch of his skin I could reach, longing to feel closer to him even though we were about as physically close as you could get. As Sirius ran his hands over my stomach, my muscles jumped at his touch and I felt stirrings of pleasure. It seemed as if it finally was getting better. I was meeting Sirius eagerly now, when his thrusts began to get erratic.

"OhGodVee," thrust, "I'm so fu-," thrust, "-cking close," thrust, "You're," thrust, "amazing I," jerky thrust, "fucking love you!"

And on those words he shuddered against me and I felt a spurt of hot liquid inside me. It was fascinating to watch Sirius come. His eyes were closed and he had this slack expression of mindless bliss on his face. He made a strange noise I'd never heard from him before, a sort of grunt/sigh kind of thing, and then he collapsed against me, sweaty and panting. I found myself smiling. Even if it had ended just when it was starting to get good for me I felt emotionally content at that moment. Sirius seemed pretty zonked and was nuzzling sleepily into my neck, still on top of me. I have to confess that I found it terribly endearing. He was acting like a great, big puppy dog and I thought it was absolutely adorable. He was kind of crushing me though.

"Sirius," I whispered softly, nudging him.

"Hmm," he hummed distractedly as he sucked idly on my neck.

"You're crushing me," I informed him. Sirius detached his lips from the juncture of my collarbone with an audible pop.

"Oh. Sorry, Luv." He rolled slowly off of me, removing his now flaccid member from my body. It seemed much less intimidating when it wasn't standing at attention and rearing to go. Or maybe it was just that we'd already done it…

Sirius interrupted my lazy musings by pulling me to his neck and wrapping himself around me, tucking his chin on top of my head. He seemed content to take a nap, and I found I agreed with this sentiment, too tired myself to be much concerned for how gross and sweaty we both were at the moment. I snuggled back into him and closed my eyes, conscious of him dropping a kiss on the top of my head before I dropped off.


End file.
